The Monster I Prefer
by Pheather McKelle
Summary: As punishment for war crimes, Loki is sentenced to life on Midgard. However, things take an unexpected twist when he winds up in a small coastal valley and is forced to take refuge at a stranger's house. Stripped of powers and forced to keep undercover, things never seemed bleaker. Until SHIELD discovers him. (Loki/OC, rated T, AU plot line, possible TDW)
1. Note to Self: Take the Highway

**The Monster I Prefer**

**An Avengers Fanfiction by**

**Pheather McKelle**

**I do not own the Avengers characters, I'm just a girl with a dream. :3**

The sky had been perpetually overcast for most of the day. Any sunlight that managed to filter through the almost impenetrable mass of clouds was quickly extinguished by the dense forest below, made up of mostly pines with a few deciduous trees interspersed. A slight drizzle, which started early that morning, had turned into a thick fog at the bottom of the valley, obscuring all but the most defined of objects. The trees here were ancient: trunks thicker than cars, gnarled roots that entwined in themselves and their neighbors, leaves that encompassed a whole ecosystem by themselves, towering branches that scraped the horizon with their wooden fingers. It was a wonder they even got enough sunlight to live, since the general area didn't see the warm kiss of the sun often in the course of the year, though it always remained relatively warm and moist due to it being a coastal valley. Though uninhabited, a small, winding dirt road meandered through the time-worn trees, leading to a small settlement about fifty miles from the northern border. An occasional car, returning from a campsite or driving to the nearest town, would sometimes use the road as a short-cut of sorts; the highway that went around the mountains was lengthy despite the additional speed and taking the back-route cut down at least twenty minutes of driving.

It was through this wet, muddy terrain that Nala Monroe found herself driving in. The rain from this morning had soaked the already damp ground, turning normally innocuous ruts in the road into olympic swimming pool-sized puddles, painting the underside of her pickup truck with the characteristic reddish-brown soil common to the region.

Nala usually took the highway despite the accumulated driving time, as the road she was currently on was treacherous at best. However, coming back from her friend's house, she discovered the highway was in need of repair. Normally she wouldn't have questioned road work since they seemed qualified enough, but government-looking men were in the mix as well, and Nala suspected there was more to their "road work" than she initially thought.

Government had always been a touchy subject with Nala. Four times they tried to get her to sell her farm and drill for oil or natural gas or whatever their excuse was to take away her land, and each time they had been turned away empty-handed, with not much more than a steely glare at their backs. Nala hated people who tried to take what was rightfully hers. She especially hated it when they tried multiple times.

The sky had grown progressively darker as she drove, the undersides of the dark, ominous clouds certainly heralded rain. She hated getting caught in storms. Since this part of the road was relatively straight, and the storm hadn't quite started yet, Nala allowed herself to think a bit. She'd be damned if those government prats were back at her farm, seizing up her barn, eying her horses as no more than pieces of meat; livestock to be sold at auction when their reluctant owner surrendered them to their greedy hands. She remembered, too, that her two dogs would probably keep them at bay, though they would rather have licked their faces instead of biting them off. It seemed as if they knew about her debt. Any minute they could crash through, but because of a quirk in the system, they didn't know.

So absorbed were her thoughts that she didn't notice the man stumble into her path. Suddenly her eyes snapped back to the road, and, yelping, she lurched the car over to one side. It was too late, and the edge of the car caught him in the midsection. Nala could hear an oof as her car collided with the man. She slammed on the brakes and sidled over to the shoulder of the road, scrambling out the door, and jogging to where the man, obviously in pain, was dragging himself into the woods. A sickening trail of blood followed.

"Sir!" she called, jogging over and kneeling down. "Sir, are you okay?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

"I don't need your help, mortal!" the man yelled throatily, his face contorting from the strain and he rolled over onto his back, showing that his nose was broken and blood flowing freely. Even worse was the trickle from his mouth. He snarled, twisting his pale face, a film of blood coating his teeth. Initially stymied by the use of the term 'mortal,' Nala nonetheless grasped his arm, hauling him to his feet.

"Go away!" he growled, trying to wrench his arm out of her iron grasp. Suddenly, his face flooded with fear. He tried again, but Nala held fast. "What's happening?" he spoke in almost a whimper, tinged with worry and desperation. He slumped to his knees, gazing horror struck at his bloodstained hands, his mouth half-open with disbelief. He tilted his head upward to the heavens, tears leaking out the corner of his emerald eyes. There was a deep roll of thunder and one raindrop became two. Two morphed into a steady downpour, the droplets landing on the man's refined face, rolling down his jaw.

**Hello all, as usual, I'm looking for an editor, so if you'd like the job, please message me!**

**Thanks for reading, make sure you drop and favorite or a review!**


	2. What'd you expect, a slap on the wrist?

**Okay guys, don't worry your pretty little heads, here's the juicy Loki part you were looking for. ^.^ (albeit not that juicy) Just you wait dear readers, there will soon be so much Loki goodness you'll be sick of him.**

The hall was splendid: the whole thing made with enough gold to have a pure mountain of it. Precious jewels were set into delicately-carved pillars supporting the massive domed ceiling, which was made of honeycomb opals that sparkled and reflected their iridescent light. Magnificent windows let in copious amounts of light that warmed the marble and obsidian tiles. Even without windows, the room would have been amply lit by a large circular fire pit in the center of the room, the acrid smell of smoke filtering through a small hole in the center of the ceiling. Nobles of all ranks had turned out in their best robes and dresses, given their armor an extra polish, and the multi-colored satin and gaudy headdresses made one feel as though you were in a room full of exotic birds. A lavish red carpet, embroidered with gold thread, ran the length of the room, circumnavigated the fire pit, and extended up to the raised dais.

The beauty and grandeur of the main hall held no charms for Loki, whose attention was focused at the end of the room, where on the red-velvet gold throne sat the Allfather, Lord of Asier, and Bane of the Frost Giants, Odin. Though age had ravaged his body, Odin was an imposing figure, with broad shoulders and a wizened old face, marred by the eye patch that covered the gaping hole beneath. His mouth was set in a grim line - almost invisible under his snow-white beard. His wife and mother to Loki, Frigga, sat on the smaller yet no less splendid throne to his left; Thor, his adopted brother to his right.

The guards tightened their grip on Loki's arms and half-dragged half-escorted him to a kneeling position in front of the king. He resisted the urge to spring to his feet; it was unbecoming of a god to kneel, even to his father, though he had no wish to make Odin any more angry than he already was. Still, the pose was foreign to him and subjugation was not his forte.

Odin stood, and the congregation of nobles which had previously been babbling about the banished prince fell silent. The trial had gone well enough, but this was what they had been waiting for. The recess between which had only made their anticipation grow.

Odin pounded the golden floor with his staff three times, the sound reverberating through the hall and jarring Loki's bones. "Loki Odinson!" he proclaimed, sitting back down. "Your case has been brought before the Asgardian Council, and you have been found guilty of high treason, attempted murder, disruption of the peace of the Nine Realms, and as such this is your sentencing. Does the accused have anything to say?" The room seemed to tense as a palpable undercurrent of tension swept through the grand hall.

Loki ground his jaw, determined not to give away any of his emotions, namely anger towards Odin. Rage burned through his veins, coursing through his heart, and seemed to seep off his skin. He would rather have been called Laufeyson than Odinson. The name left a bitter taste in his mouth. "No." he said, keeping his voice calm and level. Odin nodded as if he expected this much.

"Your punishment is thus: you will be stripped of your title, your status, and your powers that were given to you at birth, and from henceforth you are no longer a citizen of Asgard." Loki thought he didn't hear correctly. He thought he was going to live out his life as a prisoner. "You are hereby banished to the Midgardian realms, where they may punish you as they see fit." Some of the onlookers squawked and a current of quiet whistles ran like a tidal wave, implications and declarations of justification for his crimes the least of what was said. Loki could hardly believe his ears. Sent to Earth? To be among the very people he had tried to conquer, without so much as a card trick to help him survive? For how long? And what was Odin's real motive?

"Does the accused have anything to say?" Odin asked the for the final time, cutting Loki's thoughts and the thoughts of the nobles short.

"No." His voice had gotten quieter than before, preoccupied with his future on Earth.

"Very well. Escort him to the bifrost." commanded Odin. The nobles erupted into frenzied chitter, wondering at the wisdom of Odin. Could the old man be sentimental about his youngest son? Surely a war criminal of such an esteemed crime deserved a worse punishment? As Loki looked back, rage plain in his emerald eyes, he thought he saw something glisten in Odin's good eye, but it could have been a trick of the light. While Loki's face remained expressionless, his eyes did not. Frigga looked away, dabbing the corner of her eye discreetly. Thor gripped his hammer tighter, though Loki had no plans of escape.

It was a long walk to the bifrost, made all the longer since Loki could not ride a horse. There was an awkward, strained silence between accused and accuser. Odin, Thor, and ten guards accompanied them. Frigga had excused herself to her bedchambers. Once they got there, Heimdall, looking as stoic as ever, led the small party inside the newly-repaired bifrost, with the tesseract in the center of the chamber, illuminating the inside and those within a ghostly blue light. For an instant, Odin was reminded of Loki as a frost giant, but the thought was soon forgotten.

"Does the accused have any last words?" Odin asked, remaining deceptively impassive. Loki glared at him but made no sound. Odin nodded curtly and nodded to Heimdall, who strode over, his gold eyes locked on the tesseract. Loki grasped one handle, and as he did so the bifrost's outer shell started to rotate, the spinning point slowly pointing down, the energy growing in the room, snapping and crackling and making their teeth chatter until a metallic taste filled their mouths and their spines vibrated.

Loki savored one last glare at all those save Heimdall, whom he knew wouldn't react no matter what he did. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of Asgardian air before it felt like he was being yanked by his scalp through a rubber tube and deposited unceremoniously in a whirl of wind and color. He surveyed his surroundings, the cracked asphalt below his feet, the police cruisers and black SUVs that parked in a circle around him, and without so much as a second thought he galloped head-first into the thick trees behind him.

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to favorite and drop a review!**


	3. Forced Decisions

**Bozhe moy, it's been a long week! Sorry I haven't been able to update as often as I should have. I just got a job and coupled with school it's making it hard to write, but don't worry yourselves, I will try and post an update whenever I can! (usually once or twice a week)**

**Also, I do hope you like this chapter, it took me FOREVER to figure how it would pan out and I must say I'm rather pleased with the outcome. It's a bit lengthy but there's a lot of character development that's happening and to my mind it's a bit of an important chapter.**

**If you're interested in the position of Editor-in-Chief, please message me, I'm still looking for one!**

The car ride through the valley was silent; an awkward one that stretched on for seemingly endless minutes before the mud-spattered pickup nosed into the dirt driveway. Nala opened her door and walked around to open the man's door, holding it open.

"We're here." she said, a slight smile on her face. The man stepped out, not unwillingly, but not enthusiastically either, his expression blank as he surveyed his surroundings. It was dark, and the drenching rain didn't help, but the house was medium-sized and white, built in the characteristic 1700s look with a wraparound porch and bay windows. He was nonplussed and allowed himself to be led inside.

Never before had Loki gone without powers. Even if he wasn't using them, they always thrummed on the periphery of his mind, begging, it seemed, to be used. They had always danced upon his skin, making him seem to glow with inhuman energy, like a warm cocoon. Now he was stripped of that, and it felt like he had been dunked in an icy bath after a pleasant warm one. He felt even more naked than he did without clothes. His powers had been an integral part of his identity, and he felt as though there couldn't be a separation. Not only did Odin deprive him of a way to protect himself, but one of the very bases of his identity.

It shook him to the core.

Nala led him to her house, sat him down on the old couch, and went to the next room to get a few rags and a bowl of water. As she rifled through the linen closet, scrounging around for something more than the threadbare old towels, she paused, glancing down the hallway.

"What am I doing?" she growled under her breath, gripping one of the wooden shelves and leaning her head against the doorframe. Bringing home a strange man, not even knowing or asking his name? He seemed all the world like a psychopathic lunatic or serial killer at that moment. Then she remembered her training, and snaked her hand behind the towels, feeling for the latch. The hard protrusion was, with some difficulty, yanked down, and a secret cubby was revealed. Reaching inside, Nala felt the worn leather and cool metal of her father's old .32 caliber pistol and holster.

Strapping the holster on, she grabbed a blanket and peeked into the living room. He was still in the same relative position. Unbearable sadness was etched on his face and form, long black hair in disarray. Blood stained the front of his shirt and face. His green eyes were downcast, his long pale hands resting on his knees, chiseled mouth somewhat open.

Nala stepped over the threshold and sat down beside him, setting the bowl on the coffee table and wringing most of the water from the first rag. "Hold still." she murmured, tilting his chin towards her. His upper lip curled in a slight snarl as he turned away, unwilling and unmotivated to do much more. Nala rolled her eyes. "I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help." his voice was cold and distant, though there was some resignation that led Nala to believe he didn't care either way. She tilted his chin back and carefully sponged the blood from his nose, noting the break didn't seem as bad as before. Loki looked away from her eyes; they were gold and reminded him too much of Heimdall. He instead focused on the room. It was small yet airy, with warm beige walls, and a bay window directly behind him that housed several hardy plants in wicker baskets. Lace curtains were drawn over, filtering a meager amount of sunlight. The floors were a light oak, polished, with a persian area rug on top. A well-made yet deceptively simple coffee table stood in the middle of the carpet, just within hand's reach. The walls were minimally decorated with things like vintage posters and a row of china on a shelf above the kitchen door. Another couch stood opposite of his, and a fireplace to the left. Warm light from a lit candle flickered off his skin.

"Who are you?" Nala asked, dipping the rag back in the water and returning to his face, snapping him from his examination. When the man remained mute, she continued unperturbed. "I'm sorry for hitting you. It was an accident." She bit her lip, having finished his nose and worked her way down to his chin, lifting it up so she could wipe the crusty blood from his neck. "Are you sure you don't need a hospital?" the man remained mute. Nala continued in silence, noting the distinctly foreign design and quality of his green tunic. The blood had already seeped into the collar, and it would probably need to be washed. Not a priority right now, she decided, unwilling to strip a stranger in her living room.

"The bathroom's down the hall, first door on your right, if you need it." Nala said quietly, getting up and grabbing the bowl and rags. "There's some blankets under the table." she added, silently hoping he would leave in the night.

Apprehensive, Nala backed away and went down the hall to her own bedroom, changing so quickly she was sure it should have broken some record. She held the leather-encased pistol in her hand, unsure what to do. Sleeping with it on was certainly out of the question. Not only did her father leaver her a gun and some training, but instilled respect for the weapon itself. She debated about leaving it on the oak nightstand, but it would have been easy for someone to see it and turn it against her, the exact opposite of what she wanted. She instead decided that she would place it under the pillow next to her in the large double bed. Crawling beneath the covers, she snuggled in her pillow, an old novel in her lap.

Sleep did not come easily for Nala. Even when she finished the book, it was hard to find a comfortable position. The ticking of her clock suddenly became agonizing. Any distant noise was amplified ten-fold. The knowledge that there was a strange man in her house did nothing to speed along the process. Somehow, Nala eventually drifted into an unrestful nap, strange dreams lilting through her mind like colorfully-plumed birds with hooked beaks, dancing to and fro without any heed to commotion they stirred.

When Nala woke, all her old fear returned from the previous night. Without moving the rest of her body, she groped under the pillow until she made contact with the reassuring leather. Rising with a yawn, she immediately dressed; dark jeans, long-sleeved shirt, an old sweater. She buckled the gun back on. No sense in letting down your guard.

Bright sunlight streamed through the large bay windows in her living room, lending its warmth to the house. Curled up on the couch was the man.

"Hey." Nala gently shook his shoulder, unwilling to let him sleep while she was up. His pale face turned towards the sun and he squinted his eyes, shielding them with his hand.

"What do you want?" he asked, unfriendly.

"Get up, I have some questions." she said, crossing her arms. The man rolled into a sitting position and got up, the floor cool underfoot.

"I don't have to answer questions from you." he snarled, throwing the blanket off and stalking towards the door.

"You staying in my house, did you not? I think I at least deserve your name." The man paused, shoulders tense. He turned.

"My name," his voice had gone deathly quiet and Nala was beginning to regret asking him, her hand unconsciously slipped down to her holster and fingered the safety switch, "is Loki, rightful heir to the Asgardian throne, banished for wrongs I was forced to commit, and labeled a common criminal by all of your kind." he hissed, his face dangerously close.

It was just then that the doorbell rang. Loki whipped around, fear on his face, before he clamped a hand on Nala's face. He didn't have powers, but she didn't know that.

"Tell them anything, and I will make you suffer in every way I know how." he snarled. Nala's gold eyes were wide with shock and she gently nodded, plying his long thin fingers off her face and calmly sauntering to the door.

"Hey boys, back for more?" she asked teasingly when she spotted the familiar black suits and tinted glasses of government officials.

"Actually, we're here for a more serious matter." said one man, shorter than the rest, with brown hair and a slight smile, his hands clasped in front of him. "My name is Agent Phil Coulson and this is Agent Brent Peters. A serial killer was recently spotted in this neighborhood. Have you seen or heard anything suspicious?" he asked, holding a small photograph of a slightly blurry Loki.

"No one here except me." she smiled, resting her arm on the doorway, her other hand on her hip.

"We heard you talking with someone?" Agent Coulson inquired. Though his eyes were obscured by his sunglasses, Nala was sure he was trying to peek over her shoulder.

"That's just John, the drummer in my brother's band." she said, waving the question off with a flick of her wrist. "If you aren't here on 'business' you can haul your government asses back where you came from." she glared sideways, jabbing her thumb in the general direction of the black SUV parked in her driveway. Though Agent Coulson smiled, it wasn't friendly.

"We'll speak again Miss Monroe." he nodded and turned on his heel, followed by Agent Peters. Nala rolled her eyes, momentarily forgetting about Loki.

"Like hell you are." she grumbled, slamming the door.

As soon as she turned around he was there, looming like an omnipresent shadow. "They know of me." it was more of a statement than a question.

"No shit Sherlock, you blew up practically all of New York." Nala commented dryly, running her thumb and middle finger down the bridge of her nose. Loki ignored her sarcastic comment and was pacing the foyer, deep in concentration.

"I'll need to stay here until…" he trailed off, unwilling to reveal that he was powerless. "Until they forget about me." he finished. As always, the God of Lies managed to pull it off even without magic.

Nala rounded on Loki, gold eyes burning. "Oh hell no! I'm not letting a psychopathic war criminal from outer space stay in my house!" now it was Loki's turn to be taken aback. She strode towards him with sure steps, unaware or not caring about whatever powers he might possess. "Listen here Mr. I'm-not-good-enough-to-be-king, there's no way I'm going to let you anywhere near here again while there's life in me yet, so don't even think about making yourself comfortable because I swear to god, if I lose my farm over this, you're going to wish you stayed on Asgard!" she finished with verve, pointing threateningly at his face.

"Losing the farm, are we?" he asked, smirking. Nala's hand lowered and the fighting spark in her eyes was replaced by fear. "What would happen," he continued, turning around and slowly placing a hand on the well-worn banister, "If someone were to find out about your little problem?" he turned his head to the side so as to catch her reaction. Nala bit her lip. Loki was banking solely on the hope that she was having financial issues, a concept that wasn't altogether common on Asgard but which he was familiar with all the same. It seemed to have worked.

"You wouldn't…" Nala scowled and Loki allowed himself a small chuckle of victory. Maybe he wasn't so powerless after all.

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to drop a review and a favorite!**


	4. The Monster I Prefer: Part 1

**Well, this chapter is certainly an interesting one. Not very action-packed or long but there's some important backstory stuff that happens. Enjoy! :3**

Nala had never feared being lonely. Though she maintained an air of independence, there was always her mother or father, before their unfortunate demise, her brother and his raucous band which assembled in the kitchen for dinner and practiced in the basement on Saturday nights, her dogs with their clownish antics and her only semi-trained horses with their personality quirks all of which served to drive away any negative thought on her relatively lonesome life. It wasn't exactly dull around young men, retired racehorses, and hard rock. Yet after her parents died, she sensed a change in the household, and in herself. Her brother lived with her, staying in his childhood room for most of the day and leaving for work at night. She usually tolerated his affinity for his room, but after her mother and father died, there seemed to be a nagging sense that tugged her soul. She didn't know exactly what it was, but it was strong enough to drive Nala to literally drag Louie from his room and plunk him down on the couch to watch the latest Doctor Who episode. Whatever it was, and Nala had a vague, dark suspicion, she knew it wasn't a good feeling, and she strove to master it, subdue it, control it, but there was somehow one strand that wriggled loose from her daily attempts at subjugation, multiplying in the night with each passing tick of the clock. She willed away the hours until Louie got home, staring often minutes on end until she heard the familiar slam of the screen door at the back porch.

After Louie and his band left for their New York gig, the incessant pressure grew worse. It was only after the adoption of her two dogs and subsequent horses that she realized the cause of the ache. It wasn't the sadness she had previously mistaken it for, nor the absence of love she had admonished on the three important people in her life. It was loneliness; in its most potent form. It grappled with her core workings, tweaking them to its advantage, making things mesh that shouldn't have, putting feelings where they shouldn't go, bitterness towards people she felt no hostility towards. No more was her life as orderly as it once had been. And things only spiraled more out of control when the chitari invaded New York.

At first, it was only a beer here and there, perhaps a night out. The dark cloud that fogged over her thoughts like the low-clinging mists that shrouded her valley town was lifted, if only for an hour or two, drowned out by the fuzzy stupor of being thoroughly drunk. It wasn't exactly rock bottom; Nala still had the family farm and most of her wits about her, but one day she snapped out of her hazy fever and cleaned the house. This wasn't what most experts would call therapy, and there was a great deal of cursing and disgruntled noises as she shifted through a year's worth of accumulated trash, and Nala was certainly not accustomed to such domestic activities, but it helped order her thoughts and reconnect ends that were misplaced before, both externally and internally. It was into this somewhat shaky state that Loki found her. He offered relief. More than that, a connection, however slight, with the outside world and making friendships. Nala had never been a social person, and Loki was definitely not what one would consider a friend worth having, but more than relief, he offered peace of mind, which was something Nala sorely needed. Though she pretended to be strong, she knew one secret that Loki would have to pry out of her cold dead hands.

Loneliness was a monster. A disease. A cancer that not only grew and thrived but throbbed with every heartbeat and tickled the very ends of her being, begging to be scratched. It either had to be beaten and stomped out or succumed to and dealt with. There was no in between when it came to craving human companionship. Animals could only go so far when there were humans concerned. Not only did loneliness cause Nala to lose herself, but her grip on reality. She should have recognized the stranger when she first ran him over. She should have doubled back and crushed his skull beneath her tires. She should have beaten his cold dead body until all his bones were broken and burned his corpse. But no matter how much she wanted to, there was still that one part of her that longed, wished for, dare she say it, craved his attention, his company, his presence.

Loki was a monster, there was no denying that, but so too was loneliness. And as of now, Loki was the monster she prefered.

**As always, remember to drop a review and a favorite!**


	5. Earn Your Keep

**I love horses, in case you haven't noticed so far, so PLEASE PLEASE tell me when I'm getting side-tracked and spending too much time writing about horses and not Loki-goodness, I tend to do this.**

**(yes, I was thinking of Katy Perry's Dark Horse when I wrote this even though I absolutely hate both the artist and song)**

"I sure hope you're not planning on sitting on your sorry ass all day." Nala grumbled, yanking on her muddy paddock boots and tucking the ripped hems of her jeans into the rubber. Loki wrinkled his nose at the crusted mud and eyed the matching set beside them.

"What does not sitting ential?" he asked, not having plans on spending all his time on Midgard sitting on a couch and getting fat.

Nala smiled as she laced up the boots. "You'll see." she reached behind her and tossed the less muddy, larger boots in Loki's general direction. "If you're gonna stay here, you might as well work for it."

"I am a price, you pathetic Midgardian, not a stable boy." he snarled, nudging the boot with his toe as if afraid it would come alive and swallow his foot.

"Think of it this way." Nala said, standing and brushing the dried mud off her hands. Her golden eyes had acquired a hard glint that tipped Loki off that he was in for a lecture and actually regretted not accepting the proffered foot apparel. "If you don't at least try to work for me, there's always a certain agent I can call who would happily struggle to cut the duct tape I have gagged you with in the middle of the night. So hop to Snow White." She smiled sarcastically, her hands on her hips, weight cocked to the right, striking a pose which could only be described as sassy. Loki scowled but gingerly removed his own shoes, exchanging them for the dull green paddock boots.

The barn was situated behind a bluff and overlooked the sprawling valley. The walls were dark from rain on one side and bleached by the sun on the other side. Peeling red paint chipped off the sides and a few loose shingles scattered the ground, but it was solid and not in need of major repairs. The large barn doors opened to a row of four stalls, two on each side, a feed room on one side, and a tack room on the other. A wide center aisle separated the two sides. A discrete ladder in the corner led to the hayloft above. Three horses poked their heads out of their loose boxes, whinnying a greeting. Nala smiled and went to the closest horse; a fleabitten gray gelding.

"This is Saint Simon, but we call him Simon for short." Nala explained, scratching the inside of the gelding's ears with the heel of her hand. Simon's eyes closed in bliss and he leaned his heavy head towards her, his upper lip trembling like jell-o. Fishing in her pocket, she held out a peppermint, which disappeared in seconds. "He used to be a racehorse, but he was too lazy and didn't do well." Loki apprehensively approached the big gray horse. He had never really seen horses as more than means of transportation and the idea of lavishing affection and treating it as anything more seemed akin to a human keeping a motorcycle as a pet. Simon seemed to appraise the newcomer and stuck his head further out of his stall, his lips reaching for a treat. Nala grinned and gave Loki a peppermint.

"What is this?" Loki asked, eying the hard, disk-shaped red and white-striped candy.

"It's for the horse, dumbass." Nala chucked. "Keep your palm flat and don't be afraid. They smell fear." she added, her eyes widening to enhance the effect. Loki rolled his eyes but did as she told. Simon's lips tickled his pale palm as he searched for the treat he knew was there. Whiskers tickled and the candy was gone.

"This one is Louise." Nala said, affectionately grabbing the bay mare's forelock that had somehow nosed her way in between despite her being in the next stall. She was lighter than Simon, with a delicate head and long, arched neck. "She was also a racehorse. That's mainly what I do here." she said, scratching beneath the forelock. Louise tossed her head in high spirits, almost catching Loki under the chin.

Nala crossed the aisle to the other set of stalls. One was empty and swept bare, the other contained a horse. He was black all over, handsome and tall, with two white socks on his front feet and a large white blaze on his face which extended between his ears. The underside of his forelock was white, like a skunk tail. "And this is Loki." Loki raised an eyebrow and glared at the horse critically. Why would anyone name a dumb beast after the god of mischief and lies? Especially one so powerful as himself.

The horse's eyes rolled as he saw the stranger, pawing the ground nervously and backing further into his stall. He certainly didn't have Simon's bovine-like temperament or Louise's playful nature. Nala smiled sadly.

"He doesn't like people much. They haven't treated him very kindly. They just don't understand him is all." The symbolism was not lost on Loki and he felt a bit of an attachment to the nervous black horse.

**As per usual, please drop a review and a favorite!**


	6. Reminiscence

**Okay, I tried to make this chapter humorous. I really did. But… THE FEELS, you can't escape the feels. ;_; Next time I'll try, I promise!**

"Egh, how do you stand this?" demanded Loki after stepping in the fourth pile of horse excrement that morning.

"I watch where I step." retorted Nala. Loki shot a glare at her but her back was turned. He wondered how he had gotten himself into this mess as he scraped the offending substance off his boots with the end of his pitchfork. "Don't bother, you'll step in two more before you're finished." she called from across the aisle. All three horses had been turned out in their pastures and the task of mucking out fell to both. Though hard, it was simple, and left Loki's mind free to wander. One of the thoughts that most often surfaced in his mind concerned his future. How long would he stay with this woman? He uttered an Asgardian curse when a fleck of mud flew on his face and grimly thought it wasn't going to be too long.

"How's it going over there, antler head?" Nala had fallen into the habit of making up degrading nicknames for Loki when the occasion presented itself, and hearing a foreign-sounding curse from across the aisle told her that her plan to kick Loki out as subtly as possible might work afterall. The plan was conceived a few days after she ran him over and had been working itself out in her mind ever since.

Loki remained stubbornly mute as he angrily stabbed at a pile and heaved it into the wheelbarrow in the aisle. Mucking a stall consisted of removing any feces and damp patches of straw and replacing the bedding you took out. He had finished the first part and stuck his pitchfork in a bale of bedding straw, sitting down to relieve his cramped muscles. Though he was sure his father had some other form of Midgardian punishment in mind, Loki was sure that nothing was more degrading than being a prince one minute to physically removing a horse's feces from its own bed and carting it away because it was too stupid to do it by itself. It didn't help that they were particularly large, rolled all over the place, and had a strong odor that, by the end of the day, pervaded his clothes and seemed to cling to his skin.

He wondered, not for the first time that day, if everyone on Asgard was watching him. Laughing. Taunting. Flaunting their luxury in his face, eating the choicest morsels and drinking the finest mead. Envy was not an emotion that usually crossed Loki's mind, but it flickered on the periphery of his thoughts even after his mind turned to other, less pleasant topics. Over and over again he returned to the torture the chitari inflicted on him. It wasn't an experience someone, not even a god, walked away from unscathed. It wasn't just holding a hot iron to his skin, which they did do, but the mental agony that infused his every fiber while it wasn't being lit alight with pain. The smell of hot iron, the touch of it to his flesh, all was forgotten when his dreams, his very soul, turned against him every night and ripped him apart from the inside, literally and figuratively. He not only learned to fear pain, but sleep as well. Being immortal, it hadn't troubled him before, but now that he was mortal, he wasn't sure how it would affect him.

Loki shook his head, like a horse ridding himself of flies, and pitched straw back into the stall. He had to admit, if only to himself, that the smell of a fresh stall was quite pleasant. After a while, one got used to the smell of horse manure. And stalls didn't take too long to clean. Though it wasn't enjoyable, it wasn't the worst task he could have imagined himself doing on Midgard, and quietly chucked at the thought that Odin sent him here to be punished. Was this really punishment? He hated mortals and their short, pointless lives, meandering through them without purpose or dignity, stupid and blind, craving subjugation yet refusing to believe so. They angered him beyond reason for their stubbornness and stupidity. And now he was living with the very being he hated. It was like a person from the heart of a city being forced to live with cavemen.

"Don't forget to bank the sides." Loki started. Nala had suddenly appeared by his shoulder, watching his progress. He didn't know how long she had been there but guessed it wasn't too long.

"I haven't finished yet." he snapped, tossing more straw in the stall and raising the sides of the bedding so the floor looked like a bowl. "I've been doing this for a few days, I think I know what I'm doing." as soon as the sentence left his mouth, he realized how pathetic he had become. Arguing over his competency at mucking a stall. He wasn't just a god in a mortal body, he was becoming a mortal in a mortal's body.

"You're learning well, young apprentice." Nala said smugly, leaning against the stall door. Loki glowered, feeling her golden eyes boring into his back. He hated the humiliating names she gave him. 'antler-head,' 'young apprentice,' 'snow white,' and 'negative nancy' were some of her favorites. Loki didn't get the meaning behind half of them yet when he thought about her using them and him actually learning to respond to them made him cringe with shame and disgust. Pathetic mortals.

"So what exactly does one do with horses?" Loki asked, changing the subject.

"Don't you have horses on Ass-grind or wherever the hell you came from?" Nala replied, suddenly wondering what life was like for the banished prince before he tried to take over the world.

"It's Asgard." Loki replied venomously, suddenly protective of the realm that had banished him. "And we only used horses for transportation."

"So did Earth, until the car came along."

"Ah, I remember. Silly, bellowing, smelly things they are." Loki stuck his pitchfork in the wheelbarrow.

Nala raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose that's why you felt the need to blow New York sky-high?" Loki's shoulders tensed and he gripped the pitchfork handle with such force that his knuckles turned white.

"If you ever bring that up again you won't live to see tomorrow morning." his voice was calm, yet there was a bit of a waver in the tone, suggesting he came incredibly close to losing control. Nala backed off, silently dumping her last pile of soiled bedding in the wheelbarrow, unwilling to push him further.

**Thanks so much for your support! Please leave a review and a favorite, if you haven't already.**


	7. Nightmares

**Oh man… Right in the feels… If you haven't guessed by now, Loki's been here for about a week, maybe more. Am I moving too fast? I hope not. Anyways, prepare yourself for the feels. o.o**

7. The day had dawned cold and gray. The mountains were shrouded in mist when Nala started her coffee brewing. It had become a secret game with her to catch Loki asleep. Did gods sleep? She didn't know, but was determined to find out. Each morning had her waking up earlier and earlier, trying to catch the Asgardian in a state of rest. So far, she had no such luck, though this morning there was something different. There were slight gray circles under his emerald eyes and there was a stiffness about his movements that suggested little, if any sleep the night before. She was beginning to wonder if he *did* sleep at all. Did gods feel the effects of deprived rest?

"Morning." she said cheerfully, stirring cream into her coffee with one hand and rubbing the gritty sand out of the corner of her eyes with the other. Loki nodded, acknowledging her comment but not elaborating her customary morning greeting. Nala returned to her coffee, taking a test sip, rolling the taste in her mouth before deciding it was satisfactory and swallowing another mouthful.

"What is that?" Loki asked suddenly, indicating the beverage.

"Coffee. Jesus, what sad, sad world do you come from where you don't even have coffee." Nala shook her head in mock distress. Loki scowled.

"Is it good?" he asked further. It hadn't escaped his noticed that Nala was decidedly more energetic in the mornings when she drank her strange black beverage. Nala smirked and handed him her cup, which he took gingerly and took a small sip. Like Nala, he swirled the taste around in his mouth before making judgements about flavor. He grimaced, like he swallowed a lemon.

"Too bitter." he handed her back the mug and leaned on the counter. Nala chuckled slightly.

"It's more of an acquired taste." she said, looking at him over the rim of her mug.

* * *

The day passed in a more or less monotonous routine, beginning with breakfast; toast and coffee, loaded with cream and sugar. This was eaten in silence, with Loki glaring out the window, wondering if his punishment would ever end. This was followed by leading the horses out to pasture. Nala finally trusted Loki enough to allow him to lead the horses out by himself while she prepared the straw and fetched the wheelbarrow from the shed. Loki, the horse, tugged at his leadline, rolling his eyes and prancing nervously as he was brought to a secluded pasture. Once turned loose, he galloped to the far end, bucking. Louise nibbled Loki's sleeve and waited by the gate for Simon, who plodded out of the barn heavy-headedly and, once turned out, walked a few steps before rolling twice and getting up to much placidly at the grass.

Mucking out was done quicker with every passing day as Loki got better, and each day brought a fresh wave of anger and bitterness. Loki grew more and more frustrated. He got especially irritable when Nala commented on the speed at which he completed his job to the point where he snapped at her.

"I am a price! The rightful ruler of a kingdom to which you could never even hope to dream of! Stop patronizing me mortal!" He shouted, resentment dripping from the words and fury etched in the lines on his face. Nala cocked her head and studied him in more depth. Sharp cheekbones, sharper than before? Hollowed out from lack of sleep and nutrition. Green eyes vibrant, because the surrounding skin was cast in an unhealthy pallor? She hadn't gotten the chance to examine his face for any length before.

Though she knew the cause of his irritability, it didn't irk her any less that he wasn't showing the slightest trace of repentance for his crimes. Nala hoped that having him here might install some sense of empathy, but he certainly wasn't gaining any new awareness of the feelings of others. Perhaps try a different approach? Nala turned away, unwilling to stoke his temper further, and Loki angrily stabbed at a bale of straw, pitching it into Simon's stall with gusto.

At dinner, Loki merely prodded his pizza with a pale finger before declaring it unfit for a price and stomping out. He frequently did this, complaining that Midgardian food was below his standards. No wonder he looked worse for wear.

Nala finished his slice herself as she sat on the chair furthest from the silently brooding Loki, unwilling to breach the silence. He had seemed especially cross today and prodding at his skeletons in the closet was looking like a less appealing concept than before. She went to bed early, not bothering to excuse herself with the customary good night. Loki was too absorbed in his own wrath to pay much attention, his head resting on wrist propped against the arm of the couch. This was how he usually spent the nights, shadows of past tortures swimming in his vision every time he closed his eyes.

Nala worried about Loki, despite his evident displeasure at being anywhere in her vicinity. He never seemed to eat in her presence and she wondered if he even slept. He was becoming not only lax in his work, but his usually sarcastic, witty attitude had dwindled to mere impatience and irritability. And in spite of the subsequent headaches their sparring matches left her with, they added color and life to a day otherwise clouded with negative emotions. Even with her preoccupied thoughts, Nala quickly fell asleep. She had long since ceased worrying about Loki's antics; if he had wanted to kill her, he would have already.

Loki, on the other hand, was far from falling asleep. Every night the demons of his past plagued him in whatever dreams he allowed his nerve-wracked body would allow him to have. He woke up more often than not drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, the covers tangled under his body, his hair in disarray. But tonight was different.

His unpleasant thoughts of the future, while not brutally horrid considering where he was could've been much worse, manifested into the nightmares that scared him more than those the chitauri inflicted on him. Thor hunting him down, destroying the farm, killing Nala, who surfaced frequently, often in various states of pain or decomposition, and throughout it all, his father loomed like an ominous black cloud of anger and regret. The feelings hurt him worse than when his nerves were set on fire, his skin torn from his flesh, burned black, frozen, charred, burned again, and healed for pain anew.

Loki crashed to the floor, unaware of his surroundings, thrashing in the cocoon of damp sheets like a hooked fish, mumbling incoherently through eyes blurred by tears. Suddenly a light bloomed in his dark visions, a soothing voice, a comforting caress, a familiar body against his, and his mind sunk into deep, grateful, restful sleep.

**Thanks for reading, remember to leave a review and a favorite!**


	8. The Race

**Guys, I swear, I'm not doing this on purpose! These people are too emotional! It's not my fault! Okay, maybe it is… ¬.¬ But don't worry, I have something really cute planned! :D Thanks to my loyal reviewers/followers/lurkers, you're the best! (Yes, even you lurkers)**

**Yes, I ride hunt-seat IRL which is part of the reason I thought I would get carried away and start making it a horse care tutorial. Luckily that didn't happen, and memorials should be made to commemorate my patience and self-restraint. Also thanks for pointing out my typos, later I'll go back and revise but for now I'm a lazy butt. :/**

**Oh, and guys, still looking for an editor! If you are one or you know one, please message me.**

8. Loki was used to waking from whatever cramped position he had been on the couch, stretching, and making his way to the bathroom or the kitchen, depending on how great either need was. But today he found himself on the floor, his head resting on Nala's thigh, though it had undoubtedly been in her lap before she slumped over from exhaustion. He gingerly sat up, cracking his neck from where he had slept on it at an odd angle. Nala stirred at the alleviation of pressure on her leg and sat up, blearily rubbing the grit from her eyes. She looked at Loki, mild surprise in her eyes.

"I didn't kiss you, did I?" back to her jokes. Loki cracked a smile.

"I sure hope not. I would have to wash my mouth for weeks" he retorted, getting somewhat stiffly to his feet, surprised at how rejuvenated he felt after that one good night's rest. Nala looked a little worse for wear as she scrambled to her feet, a skull-splitting yawn interrupting her efforts.

"You better watch it Snow White, if you ever get scared of the dark don't count on me rescuing you again." she laughed lightly, padding into the kitchen to get her coffee started and breakfast ready. He seemed to be in a much better mood than he had been all week, actively participating in back-and-forth rebuttals. It was fun now that he wasn't taking them so seriously.

"Excuse me for a moment." Loki said, ducking out of the kitchen. Nala raised an eyebrow but made no comment as she started the toast and sipped her coffee, swirling the dregs around the bottom. He wasn't gone for long.

"Let's get back to work Sunshine!" Nala announced, putting her mug in the sink and trotting to the breezeway, tugging on her paddock boots. She frowned when they would go on right. She adjusted the angle of her foot and tried again. She muttered a few choice swear words and wiggling her foot to try and get them on.

"Having fun?" Loki asked quietly, a playful lilt to his voice. Nala squeaked with surprise and sat down hard.

"Boatloads." she growled. "And quit staring at my ass!" Realizing the cause of her misery was the fact that the laces had been tied tighter than normal, she huffed under her breath and fumbled with the laces. Loki grinned.

* * *

For once the sun made an unusual appearance, peeking over the mountain tops like a shy wild animal awakening from his den. It lit up the whitewashed sides of the barn and the dewy grass on the lawn, giving sparkling depth to things that might have missed Nala's notice before. Everyone seemed to be in jovial spirits, even the horses. There was an extra spring to Simon's plodding step and Louise flittered around her paddock like a butterfly. Loki, the horse, was being a bit frisky that morning and almost knocked his namesake to the ground before bashing him into a wall. Nala had to snatch his lead rope before he galloped away and led him, bucking and kicking, to his pasture.

"Everyone's in a good mood." Nala remarked as Loki blew off some steam, rolling, leaping, galloping, and bucking in his field.

"It would certainly seem that way." Loki leaned against the fence, the slight morning breeze ruffling his raven locks. Nala tugged at one of the flyaway corkscrew curls that formed a slight cowlick slightly to the left of her part, twiddling with the end absentmindedly as they paused in their work to watch the black horse's antics.

"Are you going to ride him?" Loki asked, thinking about the time he and Nala polished her tack. Nala sighed.

"I don't know. He's still really high-strung. I hope in a few more weeks he'll calm down." she replied, looking foreword to the day when she could throw a saddle over his back. Loki nodded as he watched him toss his elegant black head, his long ebony mane flying everywhere. He had developed a personal connection with the horse when he found they were alike in more ways besides the name. "I have half a mind to set him free." Nala mused, her gold eyes acquiring a dreamy state. "All he wants is to be wild and free, not to live inside a stuffy stall or paddock."

"Why don't you?" Loki asked. It did seem a shame to keep such a wild creature in the confides of a stall.

"Because he'd never survive. He's a delicate thoroughbred. He isn't built for survival. Call him a court noble; he's fancy and useful, but he wouldn't last a day in the real world." The connection to the roles of the rich in Asgardian, and apparently Midgardian society, allowed Loki to draw parallels in Nala's and her horse's lives that he otherwise wouldn't understand. He nodded in sympathy and understanding, feelings that usually didn't surface in his mind. He began to understand the dark horse's mind, primitive though it was.

"Do you want to ride?" Nala asked suddenly, looking sideways at Loki. He shrugged.

"I have before." he replied shortly.

"Yes but that was only to get from one place to another. This time you'd be riding for the fun of it." she said, a spark of excitement in her eyes. She might as well have suggested that they ride in the car for the fun of it; all the same, he felt there might be more to horses than he previously thought.

"If you insist." There was no use in stubbornness when dealing with Nala. It was her way or the highway.

* * *

"Ready?" Nala asked, tightening the reins a bit on the eager Louise. Loki nodded, unsure. She had given him Simon for the ride, him being the easiest to control and the safest for beginners. "Follow me, and make sure he doesn't eat the grass." she added, noticing that Simon was already eying a stand of tall grass. "Remember: heels down, head up, and keep a light feel on the reins." Loki let slip a length of rein. Simon wasn't going anywhere.

Nala nudged Louise's sides, and she tossed her head and started forward at a brisk trot. It took a bit more nudging to bring Simon to a lazy jog which only just kept pace with the rapid, flashy action of Louise.

"Keep up!" Nala called, clucking to Louise and squeezing her sides until she bounced into a canter. Simon followed willingly, accelerating into a smooth lope that covered distances easily. Loki had no trouble sitting his level gaits. He adjusted the reins in his hands, leaning forward in the saddle, allowing him to go faster.

The meadow came upon them suddenly. It was large and rimmed with trees, with golden and green grasses blowing in the wind. Louise flicked her tail and tossed her head, and Nala loosened her reins. The mare took off, with Nala yelling "Catch me if you can Reindeer Games!" Loki grinned and urged Simon into an enthusiastic gallop. He thundered across the even ground, gaining on Nala and Louise in increments. Nala grinned wickedly and clucked to Louise, urging her to go faster. The grass seemed like a green carpet was being pulled out from under them as they flew to the other side of the meadow.

Suddenly Nala veered off to the side, lightly bumping Simon, who seemed completely unfazed. Loki grinned wildly and sent Simon into the broad rump of Louise, who squealed and bucked playfully. Nala laughed and patted the mare's neck as she slowed, the fire in her eyes only stoked from their gallop. Even Simon was feistier than usual, tossing his head and pawing the ground as they slowed to a leisurely trot.

"I won that race." Nala said, her head high, smiling broadly. Loki smiled and shook his head.

"You must be mistaken. I believe victory goes to me." He said evenly, giving Simon a sloppy pat on the shoulder. Nala chuckled and turned Louise around, keeping a tighter hold on the reins then she did coming here. Loki followed, nudging Simon's sides. "I'll race you back!" he called over his shoulder. Nala rolled her eyes and galloped after him.

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to favorite and leave a review if you haven't already!**


	9. Sandy Sorceress

**You remember the cute scene I promised you guys? Well here it is. Enjoy. ^.^**

Music fluttered through the house when Loki finally trudged inside. He wriggled out of his mud stained boots, depositing them by the door, and wandered into the kitchen where the music was coming from. Nala was by the butcher block, placing cheese on slices of bread, when Loki wandered over.

"What are you doing?" he asked, eyeing the slices of meat, cheese, and various vegetables.

"Hunting killer whales." Nala replied with a straight face. When the sarcasm seemed to fly right over Loki's head, she sighed. "Making a sandwich. Ever had one?"

"That looks nothing like a sandy sorceress." Loki remarked, wondering, not for the first time that week, if Nala was completely mad.

Nala laughed, a genuine giggle, the first one Loki had heard. "It's food. Meat, cheese, lettuce, and condiments between slices of bread. It's good." she added, handing him one. He took it, uncertain as to what was expected of him. Was he to pick it apart? Put it in his pocket? The most similar thing made on Asgard that he could think of would be various ingredients that had been baked in a potato, holding your various meats and vegetables in a compact container, yet that wasn't very portable, and in any case, was constructed entirely different. He watched Nala, unsure how to proceed.

She cut hers in half across a diagonal line, lifted one corner to her mouth, and bit down, through all the fillings and bread, chewed, and swallowed, glancing out the window during the whole process to observe the birds bathing in a dish filled with water that she called a 'bird bath.' Loki followed suit, hesitantly taking a bite. When he tried to pull back, a whole leaf of lettuce followed, dragging with it several shreds of meat and cheese. The whole mess fell apart onto the counter. Nala chuckled, covering her partially full mouth with her hand. She quickly chewed and swallowed, eyes brimming with laughter.

Loki stood still for a moment, half a tomato hanging from his mouth, his hand grasping two pieces of bread smeared with mustard and two pieces of meat that managed to escape their brethren's bid for freedom. Using his free hand, he cupped underneath his chin and swallowed the rest of the sandwich.

"Did I do it right?" he asked, licking his lips. Nala grinned.

"You'll get the hang of it." Nala swept the debris from the counter and deposited them in the trash. "You have a little something right there." she added, indicating a spot of mustard above the right side of his upper lip. Loki experimentally licked around the perimeter of his mouth but didn't find the offending spot of condiment. Nala rolled her eyes and, licking her thumb, swiped it away. "There, better." she smiled.

**Due to personal reasons, this is the last chapter I'm going to post for a while. I'm really sorry and wish I could keep writing, but sadly I can't. Thank you all to the reviewers/favoriters/followers/lurkers, you've all been a huge inspiration to me!**

**Don't forget to leave a favorite and a review!**


	10. Lies

**Woo, chapter 10! After a monumental writer's block and endless stolen minutes on library computers, I have squeezed out this chapter in the hopes it will tide you over until I can *think* again.**

"I want a pony." Nala called from the living room.

"Don't you already have three?" Loki replied from the kitchen, where he was building his own sandwich: nutella, popcorn, ham, cheese, and mayonnaise.

"Yea but I want another." Nala's voice had taken on the higher pitch Loki associated with her kidding around.

"So get another." Loki pressed the two slices of bread together, running his finger around the perimeter of the sandwich to stop any mayonnaise and nutella from leaking out. They had already finished that morning's chores and were relaxing for the afternoon. Dark gray clouds had gathered in the morning and now a light drizzle misted the windows of the house. Loki walked back to the living room, his concoction on a plate and a glass of sprite in his hand. Nala wrinkled her nose.

"Asgardians certainly have interesting taste buds." she grimaced as Loki took a huge bite, a kernel of popcorn falling out as he did so. "What do you normally eat on Asgard?" she asked, leaning against the armrest with a huff.

Loki chuckled. "One day, Nala Monroe, you shall taste for yourself." he tossed the popcorn in the air and caught it playfully in his mouth. Nala smiled as she stared off into space.

"What was your favorite food?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. Loki paused mid-bite as he contemplated the question. So deceptively simple, yet it made him think. Loki generally didn't dwell on such simple matters, preferring to occupy his mind with higher order thoughts.

"Honey nut cakes." He finally decided, remembering the heaping slices of the crispy dessert, drowned in honey cream and heaped with lingonberries, that seemed to melt on his tongue. Loki had always had a bit of a sweet-tooth, stealing pastries from the palace kitchens and splitting them with his brother in secluded corners.

"What do they taste like?" Nala pressed.

"Valhalla." Loki replied with a hint of amusement.

"What does Valhalla taste like?"

"Nutella." Loki took another bite of his sandwich, licking the accumulation of hazelnut spread from his lips. Nala smirked. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Loki finishing his sandwich and Nala lost in thought. They traveled back to when she first hit him with her car. When she first found out who he was, how much she wished she had killed him then and there. Did she still wish the same now?

"How much longer do you think you'll stay?" she asked suddenly, sitting upright. Loki frowned. He hadn't given it much thought. Already, during the short week and a half he had been here, it seemed more like home then Asgard. His position, precarious in the beginning, had solidified into something more. He hadn't anticipated her asking this question because he didn't think she had to. He was tempted to avoid the question entirely, but he knew that Nala would bring it up again, and she wouldn't let it go. She would've pressed the matter more if the doorbell hadn't rung.

Nala bolted upright, chucking a pillow at Loki before adjusting her shirt and calmly walking to the door. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Ms. Monroe." Phil Coulson. That bastard.

"Mr. Coulson." Nala replied in an equally bored tone. She prayed that Loki had gotten out of the living room and hid somewhere Coulson wouldn't see him.

"This time we aren't playing around. Where is Loki?" His tone was even and smooth, almost friendly if Nala hadn't picked up on the subtle urgency and demanding quality of it.

"Loki? The guy that invaded New York?" Nala feigned ignorance, and hoped that three years of acting classes at high school had helped.

"Yes. We know he's in this general area, have you seen him or are you currently in contact with him." Dammit. He knows.

"No, I haven't. I think I would notice if a god was walking around my house." she replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"We have sources that inform us that he is mortal. That being said, he is still very dangerous." Somewhat taken aback by the fact that Loki was now mortal, Nala tried to mask her surprise with mild concern, but the back of her mind whispered_ he lied to you_.

**Thanks for reading, make sure you favorite and leave a review, they really help me out a lot!**


	11. The Monster I Prefer: Part 2

**Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun…**

Nala glared at Coulson's retreating back. There was no denying that he knew something. After shaking off multiple questions and evading, rather ingeniously she might add, direct queries, she sent them away with the promise of defending her land next time.

"When were you going to tell me you were mortal?" Nala growled, rounding on the empty living room. Loki deliberately emerged from the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin defiantly upturned.

"Does it make a difference?" he asked, his tone icy as he stood his ground over the threshold.

"It does to me!" Nala yelled, her hands flying to the back of her head and yanking down, as if wanting to rip her scalp down the middle. "I could've kicked you out ages ago!" she didn't know why she was feeling such… Betrayal. For betrayal to happen, there would have had to be trust, and if there was one thing that Nala didn't share with the trickster god, it was trust. She appreciated his company, even craved it, but trust? Had she been weak enough to allow herself the foolish notion that his whole reason for being here was not centered around the fact that he was in hiding?

"But you didn't." He countered simply. Nala scowled and plopped down in a seat.

"Well now they know you're here, so you better leave." she snarled. Loki lost a bit of his proud composure, but didn't move. Now that they knew where he was, he would most certainly have to leave, lest he expose himself or hurt Nala…

Why was he even thinking about her well-being in the first place? He shook himself, clearing away those thoughts from his mind. His first priority should be himself. There were no priorities after that. She would just be another casualty. One more addition to the never-ending stream of death that followed him everywhere. A blot of red on his already dripping ledger.

"And what of you? Surely they know you have a hand in this. You are just as guilty of hiding me as I am." Loki crossed his arms.

"Only because you blackmailed me!" she yelled, stalking over to a sofa and kicking the side with her paddock boot, cursing when she hurt her toes. "Thanks to you, Snow White, I'm now wanted for hiding evidence and god knows what else!" Her gold eyes burned with anger rarely seen. Loki flinched.

"Come with me." Nala's head snapped up. "Just for a day." he added quickly. "Just so I can find somewhere to stay until they're off my scent and yours." Nala's eyes narrowed dangerously, considering the implications of his offer. At the moment, it seemed the best option. And Nala was sorely tempted to acquiesce. She bit her lip indecisively. It wasn't camping experience she lacked, it was the bravery to do so. Especially with this particular person. Loki laughed dryly. "You don't have too many options open right now darling."

"Fine." she snapped. "Pack your bags kids we're going on a field trip." she growled under her breath, stomping to her room. Raising an eyebrow, Loki followed her tentatively, only to almost run into her as she stormed out just as quickly, her arms laden with four bags.

"What's this?" Loki asked, gesturing to the bags, two of which were backpacks.

"Camping supplies, dipshit." she snarled, still angry at him. "Grab one of each." she instructed, pulling a weatherproof jacket over her sweater and throwing a backpack over her shoulder. Loki followed suit, taking the remaining backpack and a blue sleeping roll. "We're going to a place my brother and I used to stay for a night or two. It's not that far of a hike but only we know where it is." She grabbed the red sleeping roll and opened the back screen door, not even bothering to hold it open for Loki.

Loki followed her to the barn, where she was busy tossing hay into the stalls. While she wasn't going to be gone for more than a day, she wanted to be extra sure they had enough food. She jerked her head towards the door when she finished, signalling that they were going. He followed quietly, not bothering to make conversation.

The woods weren't too far from the barn, so the slowly setting sun sent the small party into twilight darkness. The rapidly darkening woods were cool and moist, and Nala frequently tripped over exposed tree roots or slick moss. Loki often heard her grumbles drift back towards him as she plodded on, cursing his existence and the woods with all manner of Midgardian insults. After about a half hour of walking, Nala burst into a clearing and settled wearily on an overgrown stump.

"Here we are." she groaned, her earlier temper reduced by the exhaustive hike. She shrugged off her backpack, rolling her aching shoulders. "Make yourself comfortable." The concept of camping wasn't foreign to Loki; he had often slept under the stars on hunting excursions with his brother and the Warriors Three, though the tents were substantially larger and the food more spectacular than pre-packaged hot dogs. They lapsed into mutuel silence, neither willing to breach the awkward tension between them. Nala sighed as she turned the makeshift spit, on which were speared three hotdogs, her gold eyes transfixed on the withering flames. Loki leaned against a large boulder next to her, his legs crossed and his backpack propped against his shoulder.

"Believe it or not, I used to do this for fun." her eyes slit from the flames to Loki, a ghost of a smile on her lips. Loki raised an eyebrow. "Louis, my brother, and I always came out here during the summer. It was so quiet. So peaceful. Back then I liked being alone. But only because I didn't know what it could do to you." Loki remained silent, still staring at the flames, and though he appeared lost in thought, he hung on to each of Nala's words. She still looked at him intensely and he shifted under her gaze.

"You forgive too easily." he murmured as she sat beside him, the hot dogs thoroughly cooked and steaming in the cooling night air. Nala pretended not to hear.

"When Louis went to New York, I begged him not to go. It was only a year after my parents died and I was struggling with alcoholism." Why was she being so frank with him? Loki accepted the proffered hot dog in the slightly squished bun.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, his tone neither harsh nor friendly.

"I want you to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing." Nala replied, a hint of exasperation edging her words. "When Louis left, there was one thought I clung to: that he would be back. Him and his stupid band." Nala still hadn't taken her eyes off him and it was beginning to unnerve Loki enough to return the stare. The hot dog lay uneaten on his lap. Nala gulped and looked away, thoughts churning in her mind. "When I heard the news, I still thought that." Any attention Loki had been diverting from Nala now snapped towards her when she said that. She took a shuddering breath. "I waited for… Several weeks. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. He never came home. And until you showed up, I kept thinking he would. By that time, I was still struggling with alcohol." The aching loneliness in her tale was palpable, and he knew only too well what that felt like. "Have you ever seen a butterfly in winter?" she asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto his. She laughed hollowly and turned away. "Loneliness is a monster, Loki." she said as if she were a mother bestowing wisdom on a son.

Nala fell silent, the flames transfixing her attention. They snapped and writhed like snakes, sparks ascending into the air like new stars. "As am I." he finally said at last, and though his eyes were dry, he cried his anguish on the inside.

"But you're the monster I prefer." she whispered, tossing the remains of her hot dog into the fire.

**Thanks for reading, don't forget to favorite/review!**

**Guys I'm still looking for an editor! *hint hint* *nudge nudge***


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